


(Un)Comfortably Numb

by 44TayLo



Series: Remind Me [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Anxiety, Blow Jobs, Dissociation, Emotional Sex, M/M, No dub/con. Tony is aware and initiating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 11:53:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17828054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/44TayLo/pseuds/44TayLo
Summary: "A broad, soft hand cupped his face, keeping him from continuing his barrage of praise, of thanks. Eyes wide, concerned, expression fading away to…to adoration, before pulling him up for a bruising kiss.'Let me take care of you.' Whispered in his ear, God, so gentle. Tony felt tears in his eyes."It's Tony's turn to be reassured that he's safe and loved.





	(Un)Comfortably Numb

**Author's Note:**

> I just really wanted to make a sort of sequel to Hold me down (so I don't break), and I was inspired to write something with Tony based off of Pink Floyd's "Comfortably Numb." This is also just... so many of my kinks shoved into one fic. Anyway, enjoy!

There was nothing. There was everything. He was hidden away, behind automatic movements and the whisper of fear, of inadequacy.

“Not enough not enough not enough—"

Tony distantly felt his jaw and eyes clench. He needed armor. They needed…faster. Stronger. He had to be. He had to be!

 

Stopped. He blinked. There were hands on his hands. Warm, he thought, gentle though unyielding. A voice of equal character mumbling in his ear.

 

He forced his eyes to focus. Nothing, not even his own, fuzzy brain, could keep him from remembering Bruce. He was there, holding Tony’s own hands in a soft grip. Pieces of him and the rest of the world were disjointed and not right, yet Tony’s eyes told him everything was as it should be.

Did he let himself be moved, or was he easily controllable, like this? Fear coiled in his throat, palpable. He wanted to retreat further, not feel, escape, not hear the crushing truth that someday he wasn’t going to be enough. He would fail, they would die, they almost had, it would be his fault.

 

Numb limbs. Gasping breaths. Coward’s eyes closed against the truth.

 

Arms around him. Strong, warm, his face pressed against the crook of Bruce’s neck. A hand rubbing his back. Held.

 

“—safe, Tony. We’re all safe. It’s okay.”

 

Tony let himself breathe. Time slipped, passed through his fingers, and he was jarringly aware that he was sitting, soup in front of him and a spoon being pressed into his hand. A glance at Bruce’s face, more correct than before, he could make out the concerned expression. So he ate.

A scraping noise. He blinked. The bottom of the bowl. It was removed out from under his gaze, and he was being moved again. He could see, now. He was on their floor, being moved from the kitchen to their room. His temples and eyes throbbed as reality threatened to slide over him and slot itself back into place.

Pulling at his clothes. Tony blinked things back into focus and began to help Bruce undress him, then watched as Bruce stripped. The bathroom was already full of steam, shower on and ready. How could he have not heard it, before? He moved under the spray, barely needing Bruce’s guidance, now.

 

Warm. Safe. Hands on his neck, his back, rubbing away the tension and dulling the pain accompanying his return. Sorrow and fear and shame, in equal measure. He wasn’t hiding now, and it ebbed and flowed over him as surely as the shower’s spray.

 

Tony let out a sigh that turned into a gasp that turned into a sob. Strong arms wrapped around him, supported him, Bruce mumbled constantly about how everyone was safe, what a good job he did, how proud he was—

“Sorry,” Tony whispered from Bruce’s shoulder (safe, so safe, his favorite place, and yet the shame). “I’m sorry you had to deal with that. I’m fine, now.”

 

He felt, _he felt_ , Bruce shake his head. “Don’t apologize. I’ll always be there to catch you.”

 

Tony moaned. He was here, he was safe, there was no place he’d rather be. Aches trembled from his neck and eyes as reality broke over him, fully. It wasn’t as bad as it would have been, had Bruce’s touches not turned firmer at some point, massaging him while subjecting his desolate frame to the shower’s hot spray.

Tony moved in Bruce’s embrace, lips seeking skin. Lips, neck, collarbone, chest, lower, lower, his whole body thrumming with “thank you thank you thank you.”

A broad, soft hand cupped his face, keeping him from continuing his barrage of praise, of thanks. Eyes wide, concerned, expression fading away to…to adoration, before pulling him up for a bruising kiss.

 

“Let me take care of you.” Whispered in his ear, God, so gentle. Tony felt tears in his eyes.

 

He let himself be backed up against the shower wall, watched as Bruce now sank to his knees, kissed the inside of his thigh, hands trailing over hips, his pelvic bone, one reaching up to cover the reactor and resting there as lips descended over him.

 

He keened.

 

Warm and safe, the wet heat of Bruce’s mouth and the steam of the shower and Bruce protectively holding his heart in his hand and _Bruce Bruce Bruce Bruce._

Bruce hummed low in his throat, whiting out any thought and wringing a strangled moan from Tony’s own lips. He’d been chanting Bruce’s name out loud he distantly realized, once he could think again.

Close. So close. Warmth threading through his being, rewriting the faulty code in his brain and suffusing him with gasping, coiled peace. He felt his knees tremble, and Bruce’s free hand (the other never left the reactor. Never.) grasping his hip and holding him up against the wall with inhuman strength. Tony blinked his eyes open and felt his mouth slacken and a whimper spill from his mouth as he spilled into Bruce’s own throat.

 

A green tinged hand, hazel eyes, still loving, still gentle, _Bruce Bruce Bruce Bruce_ and _safe safe safe safe_.

 

Those thoughts, those feelings, never left him, even as the aftershocks subsided. He blinked his eyes open, saw Bruce studying him and, once he was satisfied with whatever he saw there, watched as he dropped his hands reluctantly from his hip and the reactor.

“Thanks.”

Tony was aware it was far from sufficient to convey his actual feelings. Bruce had let Hulk bleed over in order to make sure he was taken care of. It rarely happened, and when it did, it meant Bruce had let himself become lost in the moment. Tony felt his heart soar, even as his dick tried to stir ridiculously early at the thought that Bruce had allowed his control to slip over the simple act of pleasuring him.

 

He let a tentative hand settle in Bruce’s curls. “Love you. So damn much.” His voice was choked, but he didn’t care.

 

Bruce was quiet for a moment, simply looking up at him, still on his knees. The green bled from his hand, from his eyes. Finally, he stood. “I love all of you too, you know,” he whispered in the space between them. “That includes the parts you want to hide away.”

Tony surged forward on still shaky legs, hands in Bruce’s hair, lips on his lips, mind somehow racing and quiet all at once. He wanted to wrap himself up in Bruce, but he let Bruce break the kiss and lead him out of the shower, wrapping him up in his robe, instead.

Settled in bed, Tony could feel sleep pulling desperately at him now that he was fully present and sated. He ignored it, reaching down between them to take Bruce in hand, and then looked up in surprise when Bruce stopped him. He watched, mesmerized, as Bruce brought their entwined hands to his lips.

 

“Sleep, Tony.”

 

Safe in Bruce’s solid embrace, he let his eyes slip closed and did.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!


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